


Musings

by froghyuka



Category: TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Kinda, M/M, Muses, Some Swearing, and is very loose with the mythology, might be angsty, muse taehyun, musician beomgyu, the author makes up her own rules
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22609384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froghyuka/pseuds/froghyuka
Summary: Beomgyu is a musician struggling to find his muse, but luckily for him, Taehyun is sent by the gods to inspire him.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Kang Taehyun
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

Throughout his long, immortal life, Taehyun had had many songs written about him. Novels too. And once, a television show, but that was canceled after just six episodes. That was a pity, but well-deserved. The actor they hired to play Taehyun did _not_ do him justice. But after an existence composed entirely of compositions, it gets a little tiring. Mostly because every song written about him was cliche and trite, no matter how catchy they were. One song charted at number one for thirteen weeks. He was flattered, of course, but he hated that stupid, annoying song. It did not help that Huening Kai would sing it to tease him every time they crossed paths. Of course, Huening Kai was smug, since every song written about _him_ was either critically acclaimed or a Grammy winner. Or worse: both.

Being a muse was fun for a few thousand years, but Taehyun found that he grew bored of it and ached to do something else. _Anything_ else. When he told Apollo that a millennia ago, the god was _not_ happy with him. That’s how Taehyun found himself serving as entertainment for the gods for a few hundred years as punishment. And, _God_ , was that awful. The gods were never satisfied with his performances despite him having a perfect voice and looking ethereal. Because, you know, _that’s the whole point of a muse._ And when Apollo _finally_ let him out again eighty-seven years ago, Taehyun was only ever sent to artists of the lowest caliber. Because even talentless people need inspiration, just in case they stumble onto something beautiful. They never did, though, and likely never would, which is exactly why he was sent to them. Taehyun often wondered is his eternal punishment would _actually_ be eternal.

When Yeonjun approached him again with a new case, Taehyun rolled his eyes and slumped off of his cloud. 

“What loser is it this time?”

“Actually, I don’t know,” Yeonjun shrugged. “Apollo wants to talk to you. He says this case is too important for me to deliver.”

Just like that, Taehyun’s centuries-long bout of apathy cracked, and real emotions started to peek through. He didn’t exactly have a heart, but if he did, it would probably be racing right now.

“O-okay.” Taehyun stammered.

“He’s in his usual place,” Yeonjun said, and then promptly set off to tell his other fellow muses who they would be inspiring next.

Apollo’s usual place was an odd sort of room. If you could even call it a room. The floor was made up of billions of thin harp strings in a crosshatch pattern to form a mesh-like material. Letters made up the walls. Not the kind of letters you send to people, but the things that make up words. _Actual_ letters. Even as a muse with special abilities of his own, Taehyun still didn’t understand how it worked, but he could stare at them all day. They were letters of all different languages, and they were somehow all colors and colorless at the same time. And the letters were in a different pattern and arrangement every day. A rumor went around that one day when Apollo was particularly pissed off, all the words in his walls said: “Get the fuck out.” Today, however, the letters were jumbled, and Taehyun couldn’t get a read on how Apollo was feeling. 

He must have heard Taehyun enter, because he whirled around in his chair, always a flair for the dramatic. He was clad in a hot pink suit and wore the face of an attractive man in his twenties. Apollo had the ability to change his appearance at will, and Taehyun did _not_ want to know why he had chosen this. 

“Taehyun! I’m sure you’re a little curious about why I brought you in here.”

Well. That was the understatement of the century. 

“You see, I’ve spent the last several decades trying to figure out what to do with you. It has been brought to my attention that your current punishment is not very effective. I’ve been told,” he heaved out a big sigh as if he had been scolded more than told, “that instead of punishing you for wanting to do something different, I should remind you of all the great things about being a muse.”

_Great._ The last thing that would make Taehyun want to continue being a muse was listening to a lecture on why he _should_ want to be one. Especially when he thought he was coming in here for an important case.

“So, I’ve decided to let you see that for yourself.” The god tossed a file on his desk. He could have just transferred the information to Taehyun’s head, but reading it from a file just felt so much more intimate.

While Taehyun absently flipped through the pages, he asked, “So, what’s so special about,” he squinted to read the name, “Choi Beomgyu?”

“From what we’ve calculated, he has the highest artistic potential of anyone on Earth right now. His talent is off the charts; he can sing, play guitar, produce his own stuff. He just doesn’t know what to do with all that talent. That’s where you come in.”

“Yes, I know, I’ve been doing this for a long time.” Taehyun wasn’t sure one talented musician was enough to make him fall back in love with being a muse.

Then he flipped to the last page of the file. The one with a photo.

Oh.

_Oh._

Choi Beomgyu was _cute._

Maybe this would be fun, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Humans had gotten a lot of things right about the gods. Well, they got most things wrong, but the fact that there were even somewhat close is impressive. They were right in figuring out that there were multiple gods, and that they each have their own domain. They didn’t necessarily get those domains right. They really thought there was a god just for wine and partying? That always made Taehyun giggle because it was so ridiculous. They also got all the names incredibly wrong, but the gods actually liked the names the humans made up more than their originals, so many of them adopted them. They were way easier to pronounce than their original godly names anyways. The stories humans made up about the gods were wrong too. No, the gods weren’t perfect, but a lot of the stories about them were just used by humans to justify their own immoral actions. 

The humans did get muses right. Or mostly right. Muses  _ do _ exist, and they  _ do _ live to drive art and culture. But they were not only female, and there were not only nine of them. How would that even work? Nine muses for the whole human collective? No, there were at least a few thousand, and those were just the ones Taehyun knew. And humans made out muses to be way more boring than they actually are. In reality, each individual muse was different, with their own personality and approaches to inspiration. Some worked quick and stayed out of the way, just planting words they knew would spark something into artists’ heads. Others liked to meddle, creating situations for the artist to run into someone or something that would lead them to greatness. Taehyun, however, preferred to be the center of attention. After all, if they were gonna make something beautiful, it might as well be  _ about _ him, not just  _ because  _ of him.

Taehyun had spent the last few days going over Choi Beomgyu’s file again and again, and when he felt he knew enough to start his fieldwork, he set out for Earth. He’d been following Beomgyu around all day, to class, coffee shops, and back home. Unlike Apollo, Taehyun could not change his appearance, but he could make himself invisible in a way. People could still see him, but it was almost like their eyes would slide right over him, not even registering his existence until he was already gone. He had to do this because the whole operation would be thrown off if Beomgyu recognized him as the creep who had been following him. And because a face as beautiful as Taehyun’s was hard to forget, so it was easier to just not be seen. 

He had been following Beomgyu to figure out the best way to deal with him. To figure out which approach would warrant the best results. He also had to make sure that Apollo wasn’t messing with him- that Beomgyu was really as talented as he had been made out to be.

Taehyun found very quickly that he was not being tricked. Beomgyu was the real deal. Taehyun was a few paces behind him, and Beomgyu was humming a tune as he walked down the street. That sound alone confirmed his potential. And then he started singing. He sang quietly, soft enough that only Taehyun, whose hearing was far better than that of any human, could hear. Beomgyu’s voice melted Taehyun. It was a cup of hot chocolate on the coldest day of the year. It was warm and deep and rich and layered. And when he pronounced the words with a slight lisp, Taehyun realized for maybe the first time that it was okay that humans had imperfections. 

Today Beomgyu was wearing a loose white shirt with black checked pants. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he brought his guitar everywhere he went. Taehyun found this peculiar, because most of the day, he didn’t even open the case. It wasn’t until Beomgyu was back home that Taehyun heard the light plucking of guitar strings. Even listening through the window three stories below, Taehyun could tell he was gifted in that too.

Earlier in the day, Beomgyu had gone to a coffee shop to do his homework. When he went to the bathroom, Taehyun rummaged through his stuff until he could find something that remotely resembled song lyrics. What he found was appalling. Taehyun could tell from his file that Beomgyu had very little life experience to go off of (the boy hadn’t even been  _ kissed  _ yet), but he had no idea it was this bad. The melodies and rhythms he had come with were fresh and unique, but the  _ words _ he had accompanying them were empty and senseless. Taehyun could tell that Beomgyu wanted to make his own music but could see his struggle in finding his voice.

It was pretty clear to Taehyun what he had to do. Beomgyu didn’t know anything about one crucial concept, a concept that made up 90% of songs: love. 

And to get the best results, the best, most raw, real, vulnerable music, Taehyun would have to do the whole thing.

Not just be a beautiful stranger who crosses his path. Not just a boy Beomgyu has a little crush on. No, he’d have to make Beomgyu fall in love with him. That, of course, was the easy part.

It was the next part that would be harder for Taehyun.

He’d have to break this boy’s heart. 

Dig his claws in and rip it to shreds. 

Mangle it beyond recognition. 

And, well, that was kind of a shame. 


End file.
